


it's nice to have a friend

by 210pm



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, it's nice to have a friend but make it gayer and w loona
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22539511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/210pm/pseuds/210pm
Summary: When the silence weighing comfortably between them settles into place, that’s when she speaks.“You’re my best friend, Hyejoo.”“You’re mine too.”or the it's nice to have a friend song au
Relationships: Choi Yerim | Choerry/Son Hyejoo | Olivia Hye
Comments: 25
Kudos: 206





	it's nice to have a friend

**Author's Note:**

> this is a completely self-indulgent song au based 100% off of taylor swift's it's nice to have a friend lyrics so if u don't listen to that song on repeat while reading this, i'll be disappointed.
> 
> lol jk, i hope u enjoy!

**_School bell rings, walk me home_ **

**_Sidewalk chalk covered in snow_ **

**_Lost my gloves, you give me one_ **

**_"Wanna hang out?"_ **

**_Yeah, sounds like fun_ **

**_Video games, you pass me a note_ **

**_Sleeping in tents_ **

**_It's nice to have a friend_ **

—

  
  


Yerim and Hyejoo have been taking the same route home from school everyday since freshman year. Sometimes with their joined hands swinging in between them and sometimes with interchanging exchanges of laughter and silence, it was always the same route at the same time everyday.

(They’ve been stuck together for much longer than that though, ever since Hyejoo had pushed the boy that was making fun of Yerim’s smile off the playset in Kindergarten.)

It was winter, the December air being pulled into their lungs and released in breathey exhales that fogged the space in front of them. Yerim remembers the time that Hyejoo had gotten scared of her own breath when she was younger, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she glances up at the girl beside her. 

Hyejoo would defend herself every time the past incident was brought up, an exasperated sigh relieving itself from her chest whenever Yerim would mention her younger self’s irrationalities.

_ (I was like nine, Yerim. How was I supposed to know that seeing my own breath in front of me didn’t mean I was being possessed by a ghost?) _

“I know what you’re thinking so stop thinking it,” Hyejoo grumbles from where she walked beside her, her chin burrowed down into the thick neckline of her heavy sweatshirt in an effort to preserve whatever warmth she had left.

Yerim giggles, shrugging her shoulders innocently at the accusation, “I wasn’t thinking anything!”

“You think the same thing and make the same joke every time it’s cold out. You’re getting predictable at this point,” Hyejoo rolls her eyes, adjusting the strap of her backpack that was loosely strung over her shoulder.

“You know, your eyes may actually fall out of your head if you keep rolling them that hard,” Yerim reprimands, a teasing glint shining on the surface of her own features. “I’m surprised they haven’t fallen out already seeing as you spend more than half of your day staring at your computer screen.”

Hyejoo’s eyebrows furrow in offense, her head peering down at the girl trudging through the snow to the right of her with a scowl twisting onto her lips.

“Fine, I guess you don’t have to come over and play PUBG with me then. That’s fine,” she mutters, shifting her body away from the purple-haired girl in fake indignation.

Yerim’s eyes widen comically, her mouth dropping open as she stares in disbelief at her best friend.

“What, Hye you know I was joking! We play everyday and I’m just starting to get good!” Yerim reasons, her voice rising in volume and pitch as her argument progresses.

(Hyejoo couldn’t even disagree with her—she  _ was  _ starting to get good. The last time they played Yerim had run down three people with a motorcycle. Yes, they had all been on the same team as her but the point is that Yerim was no longer afraid of virtual players with guns. Progress is progress.)

“You would get  _ so  _ bored without me there to cheer you on and you know it. Who else would sit with you for three hours while you play video games? No one!”

Yerim’s small body latches itself onto Hyejoo’s larger form, arms unraveling from where they were wrapped around her own shaking body and weaving around the other girl’s torso instead.

Hyejoo groans at the studden new addition of weight, stumbling dramatically to the left as she supports her friend’s lithe frame. Sliding her right arm from where it’s trapped between Yerim’s body and her own, Hyejoo slings it over the other girl’s shoulder, the black of her sweatshirt’s sleeve contrasting vividly with the bright shades of purple painted onto Yerim’s hair.

“What’s it going to take for you to call me Olivia. I’ve been asking for two years,” She sighs fondly, squeezing the smaller girl closer to her body, shielding her from any stray gusts of cold air.

Nuzzling her flushed face into the girl’s shoulder and appreciating the comfort and warmth that promptly welcomed her, Yerim smiles shyly as she tightened her hold around Hyejoo’s middle.

“You’re always gonna be Hyejoo to me, Hye,” Yerim speaks softly, her words slightly muffled by the fabric of Hyejoo’s sweater as her face burrows in deeper into the taller girl’s warmth. “I’ve just known you for too long and I’m too lazy to try and rewire my brain like that.”

A few seconds of silence hanging in the air between them, Yerim reluctantly pulls herself back from Hyejoo’s shoulder, the taller girl’s grip around her body loosening as Yerim slowly moves away.

“That...it doesn’t bother you right?” Yerim asks, her eyes trained on her old beaten converse, both of her feet dampened from the snow that had slipped inside and melted.

“What?” Hyejoo returns bluntly, glancing curiously at the girl below her.

“I mean like, me still calling you Hyejoo. That doesn’t bother you, right?” Yerim’s words quickly becoming colored with worry. “I’ll for sure stop if it does, I promise.”

Yerim vividly remembers the day during sophomore year her best friend had requested to be called Olivia instead of Hyejoo. She had stormed past Yerim after class with tears in her eyes and the entire walk home was filled with tense silence save for the very end when Yerim had said goodbye to her.

( _ See you tomorrow, Hyejoo! _

_ Could you not call me that anymore? Call me Olivia now, please.) _

Yerim had learned months later that Hyejoo’s insecurities and rash insistence on being called by another name had stemmed from the harsh teasing of a few girls in her Biology class. Kids could be so cruel sometimes.

Hyejoo’s eyes shimmer with something akin to both humor and fondness, the arm still loosely hanging around Yerim’s shoulder tugging her back into her side, hand running up and down the length of the other girl’s arm as if to rid her of any remaining discomfort.

“I mean, I guess it would if it was anyone else.” Hyejoo chuckles, her heart warming at the almost instinctive way Yerim’s face found its way back into the side of her shoulder. “Honestly, I like that you’re the only one who  _ doesn’t  _ call me Olivia. I like that you’re the only one who calls me something different.”

Yerim grins at the admission, taking the initiative to plant a soft kiss on her friend’s jawline in appreciation.

“I like that I’m the only one you let call you anything different.”

(Hyejoo’s not sure if the redness in her cheeks is from the cold or something else.)

“I- yeah, cool,” Hyejoo mutters, pressing an equally as affectionate kiss onto the top of Yerim’s head, her lips shifting from a thin line into a gradual upward slope.

Sighing in content, Yerim slides one of the arms that had become entangled with Hyejoo’s down lower, her single gloveless hand interlacing with her friend’s gloved one.

Feeling the cold that had previously been harbored in Yerim’s bare palm seep delicately into her own, Hyejoo’s smile melts into a concerned frown, bumping her shoulder softly with Yerim’s.

Raising her eyebrows in confusion, “Why do you only have one glove?” Hyejoo gently squeezing Yerim’s ungloved hand that was trapped between her own for emphasis.

Huffing in embarrassment, Yerim proceeds to swing their conjoined hands in the empty space between them.

“I think I left my other one in my locker or something. I’ll just get it tomorrow,” Yerim responded with a subtle bob of her head.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, dumbass,” Hyejoo breathed out with a laugh, detangling her hand from the loose grasp of Yerim’s cold fingers as she spoke, pulling off the barrier of fabric that surrounded her hand. “Here.”

Yerim’s eyes widened in protest, her mouth opening to argue and her hand retreating back towards her body, but not before it was once again trapped in the familiar warmth of Hyejoo’s now ungloved hand.

Working with quick diligence, she slipped the glove onto Yerim’s hand, the cold that had taken root in her bones quickly dissipating as a comfortable shield of warmth wrapped itself around her skin.

“Hyejoo if you don’t take this off of my hand right now I’m literally going to ignore you for the rest of the week,” Yerim whines as her gaze fixes itself on Hyejoo’s now exposed hand.

“You’re so dramatic, oh my God,” Hyejoo groans, taking Yerim’s now covered hand in hers once again to fend off the frigid air attacking her own skin. “Besides, there’s literally 2 days left in the week. I think I can manage.”

“You’re so mean. I hate you.”

“Okay,” Hyejoo shrugs. “Do you want to play Overwatch or PUBG when we get home?”

  
  


—

**_Light pink sky up on the roof_ **

**_Sun sinks down, no curfew_ **

**_Twenty questions, we tell the truth_ **

**_You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too_ **

**_Something gave you the nerve_ **

**_To touch my hand_ **

**_It's nice to have a friend_ **

—

  
  


Yerim has always preferred sunsets over sunrises.

She loves the way the colors blend together in the sky to form other hues on the spectrum. She loves watching as the sun sinks below the horizon and encases the world in a soft, mellow darkness, the colors melting into one monotoned shade of black. She especially loves when the pinks and purples dance together in the open expanses above her and meet to create a new color— something beautiful and imperfect.

(Yerim would  _ never _ tell  _ anyone _ this but she had dyed her hair to match her favorite blend of sunset colors— purple with soft undertones of pink. Well, that’s a lie, she told Hyejoo but Yerim figures that doesn’t count since she tells Hyejoo mostly everything anyway.)

Yerim thinks, though, she loves sunsets the most when Hyejoo is watching them with her.

Some of her favorite moments with Hyejoo had happened during sunsets. It was during a sunset that Yerim had came out to her best friend as bisexual. Ironically, the color of the sky that day had been a fusion between pink, purple, and blue. Yerim would argue that it was pure coincidence while Hyejoo would insist that it was the universe telling her that now, even sunsets are gay.

_ (I’m not even gay, Hye. _

_ That’s irrelevant. The point is that you’re not straight, even the universe is saying so. _ )

It was during a sunset that Yerim had told Hyejoo that her mom was diagnosed with cancer and it was during a sunset that Yerim had told Hyejoo that the funeral was scheduled for next Saturday. It was during that same sunset that Hyejoo had seen Yerim cry for the first time.

(As she held her best friend in her arms that evening, Hyejoo wondered how something so heartbreaking could be happening to someone so beautiful.)

During this particular sunset, however, the two of them sat upon Hyejoo’s rooftop desperately trying to grab onto the last fleeting moments they had together before Yerim would have to walk across the street and go “home”. 

(Yerim always referred to her supposed “home” in quotations because, really, her home wasn’t a place, it was a person.)

“I hate this part,” Hyejoo spoke softly, the hand that already was wrapped loosely in Yerim’s own tightening its grip.

Responding with a squeeze of her own, Yerim let her head fall comfortably onto the taller girl’s shoulder, nuzzling into the soft fabric of the other’s sweatshirt. One of the things she loves most about Hyejoo was the fact that her wardrobe consisted primarily of jeans and sweatshirts because that meant two things for Yerim: she could _take_ _borrow_ them whenever she wanted and it was always really comfortable whenever she wanted to use Hyejoo’s pliant body as a pillow.

“What part?” Yerim responds with a sleepy smile, her body drained from the enduring week they had managed to stumble through together.

“You leaving,” Hyejoo sighs, adjusting her shoulder so Yerim’s heavy head could rest more naturally in between the slope of her neck and her shoulder. One of the things Hyejoo loves most about Yerim was the way her friend poured all of her affection onto her, the older girl’s need for physicality being sated by Hyejoo and Hyejoo only. What was more rare than seeing Yerim and Hyejoo apart was seeing Yerim not comfortably clinging to her best friend.

“I literally live like two houses down,” Yerim says while slapping Hyejoo’s shoulder fondly.

“I don’t get why you can’t sleepover. Your dad’s not even coming home tonight, right?”

Yerim chuckles, molding herself closer to her best friend’s soft form, her attention never once leaving the sky stretching in front of her, the streaking vibrancies of colors reflecting in her eyes.

“I mean, yeah. But I don’t think he would be too happy coming home from his shift to an empty house.”

Hyejoo’s jaw clenches at her friend’s words, body stiffening in the slightest.

(If Yerim had not been so finely tuned to notice any change in Hyejoo she probably wouldn’t have noticed.)

“Hye-”

“Well it’s not like he cares when you have to come home to an empty house everyday,” Hyejoo murmurs, tone sharp with something akin to the dangerous mixture of anger and heartache.

Silence accompanied them as they continued to sit side-by-side, Yerim’s eyes still fixated on the morphing azure of the heavens— the blues having metamorphosed into soft golds and pinks.

Yerim desperately wants to fill the quiet with something to ease her friend’s discomfort, her obvious pain. It always hurt her more than it should seeing Hyejoo anything other than happy. What hurt the most, though, is when Yerim knew she was the cause of it. Hyejoo had always been too selfless for her own good.

(It’s another thing that Yerim loves about her.)

Instead, Yerim responds with something she knows will diminish the taller girl’s worries.

“Question one, if you could visit any place on Earth and take anyone with you, where would it be and who would you bring?”

Hyejoo’s head cranes downward to glare in disbelief at the purple haired girl resting nonchalantly on her side.

“Twenty questions? Really? We haven’t played this in like two years,” Hyejoo scoffs, leaning further back onto the tiling of her roof as the pink clouds outlined in golden sunlight moved above her head.

Twenty questions had been their go-to game in the past. They had played it when they were bored, when they were sad, when they were happy. Somewhere along the line they had stopped, but Yerim knew from experience that it was something that always guaranteed a smile on Hyejoo’s face.

“Okay, and? Don’t act like you’re too old for this when  _ you  _ know  _ I  _ know that you still sleep with that wolf stuffed animal,” Yerim retorts smugly, tearing her eyes away from the sky and fixating them on the girl nestled beside her instead.

(Yerim’s breath gets stuck in her chest when she realizes she likes looking at Hyejoo more than she likes looking at the sunset.)

“You got me that thing,” the taller girl quietly shouts, careful not to wake her parents who were most likely asleep in the rooms below.

“Yeah, when you were like ten!” Yerim laughs in return, cooing at the younger girl. “Anyway, answer the question!”

“My God, okay,” Hyejoo groans, straightening her back as she ponders her answer. She really never could say no to Yerim so she didn’t know why she thought she could start tonight. “I’d go to Alaska and...I’d take you.”

(Hyejoo honestly doesn’t know why Yerim had asked the second part of that question. As if she’d take anyone else  _ but  _ Yerim.)

Tilting her head to the side as she lifted herself to look at Hyejoo, Yerim regards her friend with open interest, her eyes twinkling with curiosity

“I mean, I get why you’d bring me since I’m like your only friend but why Alaska?”

“Okay, don’t get too full of yourself, you’re not my only friend. I just spend so much time with you because I’m  _ your  _ only friend,” Hyejoo grins as Yerim lightly slaps her shoulder, the purple-haired girl crying out in protest. “I mean, the aurora borealis is in Alaska. And, well, I know you love sunsets but I think that you’d love that more. It’s way prettier than any sunset we could ever get here.”

Ever since she was younger, Hyejoo had always wanted to travel the world. She wanted to see the different cultures and worlds that existed outside of the suffocating bubble she (and Yerim) had crafted in their small town.

She wanted to go to Italy and show Yerim what  _ real  _ Italian pizza tasted like. She wanted to visit the Netherlands and take Yerim to see the tulip fields because she thought that her hair would blend in perfectly with the pastel hues of the flowers. She wanted to fly to Japan and take Yerim to see the cherry blossom gardens because she knows that the girl beside her would have a field-day with the possible Instagram captions and puns that could come out of that visit.

So, yeah, Alaska may not be the most foreign of places, Hyejoo would admit that. But it was the place she thought Yerim’s smile would be the brightest so, inevitably, it was the place she wanted to go first.

Looking down discreetly, Hyejoo smiles as she sees the light pink dusting Yerim’s cheeks, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her rosy lips as she tightens her hold on Hyejoo’s arm. Yerim stays quiet, her brown eyes staring into the distance and her chest rising and falling in tune with the beat of Hyejoo’s heart.

Yerim soon interrupts the silence with an adoring voice, “Your turn.”

Letting her head roll dramatically backwards as her hair fell loosely between her shoulder blades, Hyejoo lets out an exasperated and exaggerated sigh.

“Okay, fine. What color do you want to dye your hair next?”

Yerim thought for a moment before responding, “I think I want to let it fade into a pink. I don’t know if I want to redye it, I don’t want to fry my roots and end up like Jinsoul.”

“Ouch. She’s not even here to defend herself, you monster,” Hyejoo laughs, thinking warmly of their mutual friend who was more of a parent to Yerim than her actual father.

(Yerim may not say it often or even at all but Hyejoo knows that she idolizes the older girl more than anyone else she knows. And Hyejoo may not say it often or even at all but she’s grateful to Jinsoul for taking care of the one person she loves most in the world.)

“Why don’t you ever let me use the blue controller?” Yerim quickly questions, eager to uphold the flow of the game. “You always make me use the pink one.”

“Because I know you like pink better,” Hyejoo shrugs. “Plus, the blue one was a lot of money and I don’t trust you enough to not throw it across the room when you get frustrated.”

“Fair enough.”

It was Hyejoo’s turn by the time the twentieth question was reached, the smile that had found its way onto her lips falling off as she nervously let her eyes wander to where Yerim was beaming beside her.

“Last question, make it a good one,” Yerim says as the setting sun casts a golden hue onto her serene expression, the purple of her hair softened by the transcendent light that had blanketed over her.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” The question had exploded out of Hyejoo’s chest without preamble, her eyes flitting insecurely across the pink sky before her in active avoidance of Yerim’s curious gaze. “I mean, like, these past few weeks you’ve just been...not there.”

Yerim’s eyebrows furrow inwards in dismay, lips contorting into a frown, and hands gripping tighter onto Hyejoo’s static form.

“I haven’t been avoiding you?”

“Yeah, you have. Maybe not purposely but you have been.” Hyejoo grumbles, voice shaky and head bowed down in submission. “I don’t know, it just seems like the only time I ever see you or talk to you anymore is when we walk home together and even then you don’t even really talk to me. I just…”

A pause.

“I guess I just want to know why.”

_ Why you don’t like to be around me. Why I’m not enough to keep you happy. Why I don’t matter anymore. _

When Hyejoo finally has the courage to lift her head from the subdued position it had been in to meet Yerim’s gaze, rather than a firey and protestful stare, she was met with tearful and sorrowful brown eyes. Just like most times Hyejoo had seen Yerim cry, her heart constricted in her chest at the sight.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Hyejoo tries, voice soothing as she forces Yerim to angle her body towards her. “Please don’t cry, you know I hate when you cry.”

“I…” Yerim starts, her voice watery and her bottom lip trembling slightly. “I’m so sorry, Hye.”

It was Yerim’s turn to pause.

“I never meant for you to feel like that, I’m so sorry.” Yerim breathes in deeply as if to regain and regather her thoughts. “It’s just...I’ve been so stressed. We’re seniors now and college applications are  _ so soon  _ and I just‘ve been so overwhelmed and stupid and  _ awful  _ and I’m so sorry because I made you feel like that when you’re only person that’s actually been keeping me sane lately.”

It all came out in one exhaled breath, Hyejoo’s arms winding themselves tighter around the other girl’s heaving form with every word she spoke and every tear that fell from her eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hyejoo reassures, releasing a comforting laugh when Yerim vigorously shook her head in response. “No, seriously it’s okay. I wish you would’ve just talked to me about it instead of going all MIA but I get it. I’m stressed out too, I get it.”

“I’m still sorry, I literally suck.”

“You don’t suck, idiot,” the taller girl huffs, her chin coming to rest on the top of Yerim’s head as she continued to hug the girl’s smaller frame. “I just wanted to know if I did something wrong, I guess. I was worried you were finally getting tired of me.”

Yerim shifts away from Hyejoo’s embrace, wrapping her arms around her knees as she buried her head into the space between her legs and her chest.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise,” Yerim pauses. “And I could never get tired of you. Ever.”

Her cheeks warming with a familiar heat, Hyejoo was glad that the sun was beginning its descent into the horizon, the lack of light making it more difficult to see her rising blush.

“Just tell me when you’re feeling like this next time, okay? I don’t even care if I’m in the middle of a game or something, I’ll be there when you need me.”

“I know. Thank you, I love you,” Yerim whispers, her voice brimming with fondness and an unbearable affection.

“Yeah, love you too.”

They stay like on the roof that for several moments longer, watching the pink sky highlighted with golden streaks become enveloped in a soft blanket of darkness.

As the midnight engulfs the both of them, Yerim slides her hand on top of Hyejoo’s, the sun’s light leaving them but its warmth seeming to stay.

  
  


—

**_Church bells ring, carry me home_ **

**_Rice on the ground looks like snow_ **

**_Call my bluff, call you "babe"_ **

**_Have my back, yeah, everyday_ **

**_Feels like home, stay in bed_ **

**_The whole weekend_ **

**_It's nice to have a friend_ **

—

  
  


Yerim wasn’t overly religious, or religious at all for that matter, but even she knew it was a town tradition to attend mass on Sundays. Call it small town mentality but every Sunday without fail the rows upon rows of pews would be filled by the time the priest proceeded down the carpeted aisles on the path to the altar.

She never quite enjoyed the process of attending mass. Whether it be due to her early encounter with death and the concept of heaven or the preachings that had brought out a hated for herself she hadn’t even known existed, Yerim could never really truly appreciate the weekly sermons and communion in the way she knew they were supposed to be taken in.

The only part of Sundays Yerim looked forward to were her moments spent with Hyejoo after the rest of the congregation had filtered out of the aisles, climbing onto the taller girl’s back once they exited the suffocating brick walls of the holy building and being welcomed by the golden morning light that danced upon their skin.

The brass chime of golden bells that matched the sunlight in color but dispirit in its warmth rang out across the church courtyard as Hyejoo wrapped her arms tighter around Yerim’s legs, huffing in exertion as she carries the older girl towards their shared street.

Hyejoo can’t remember the last time she didn’t carry Yerim home from church on Sundays, her body almost conditioned to bend down slightly to allow the shorter girl easier access and her arms coordinated to grapple around the legs that would wrap around her midsection as Yerim clambered onto her back.

December had come and gone, the fleeting winter sun flickering in and out between the wispy clouds that cluttered the azure expanse above them. Snow still impacted the floor on which Hyejoo walked, her boots sinking into the soft powder beneath her. Yerim’s breath tickled her neck as she laughs hotly against the crisp air surrounding her, her arms bundled securely around Hyejoo’s upper body, leaning contently against her friend’s moving form.

As she found her wandering gaze become fixated on the sharp features of Hyejoo’s profile, her cheeks dusted a light pink as she felt the warmth from Hyejoo’s fingers spread like flames across her own frame, Yerim didn’t know if “friends” was the right word to use for them anymore.

Logically, she knew that they would always be friends, best friends even, but something had changed between them as they entered the new year. Rather, while their shared touches had always been long and soft, somehow they had become longer and softer. Instead, while their words had always been heavy and fond, somehow they had become something  _ more _ . And, while her heart had always beat  _ faster _ around Hyejoo, somewhere along the line Yerim had realized that it simply beat  _ for _ Hyejoo.

Maybe they were stumbling hand-in-hand along the border between friends and something more than that, or maybe Yerim’s overactive imagination and optimism was getting the best of her, but something had changed between them— that at least she knew.

(Oddly enough, Yerim didn’t really mind the change. If she was being completely honest with herself, she thought that they hadn’t been normal for a while now.)

Leaning more completely on Hyejoo’s strong back, Yerim let her face fall into the back of her friend’s neck, planting several soft  _ friendly  _ kisses onto the skin there with a simple brush of her lips.

If the sharp intake of breath that arose from Hyejoo’s chest soon after was any indicator, Yerim figures that she was not stuck alone in the strange limbo they have found themselves in. As always, Hyejoo was right there beside her.

(Hyejoo was confused as to why there were goosebumps all over her body when she was completely covered head-to-toe in winter clothes and had Yerim’s reliable body heat pressed firmly into her back, the warmth expanding its tendrils from the space between her shoulder blades to her fingers and toes.)

As her arms began to ache from the physical exertion of carrying Yerim while having to tread heavily through the thick powder that impacted the ground before her, Hyejoo gave the purple-haired girl’s right leg two quick taps.

At the sensation, Yerim huffs a quick sigh of disappointment before dismounting herself from Hyejoo’s back, her feet landing with a muffled thud in the snow that blanketed the floor.

Yerim watches with amusement as Hyejoo rolls her shoulders back as to rid herself of any lingering discomfort, the girl’s features twisting into relief as her shoulders slump forward into their usual self-effacing manner.

“Sorry, I got tired,” Hyejoo explains, looking back at Yerim to make sure she had made it to the floor safely.

(Hyejoo had witnessed Yerim tumble off her back too many times to count, the ground not usually layered with the safety net of snow and Yerim’s arms and legs more often than not battered with superficial scrapes and bruises by the time they made it home.)

Brilliant white teeth peeking out from behind her lips as her mouth stretched into a familiar grin, Yerim looks up at Hyejoo with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

“It’s fine. I mean, even  _ I  _ could carry you further than this but,” Yerim responds nonchalantly, yawning as she presses her palm to her open mouth in feigned disinterest. “Not everyone can be me.”

_ Thank God,  _ Hyejoo thought.  _ The world would be too perfect if everyone was like you. _

Glaring in offense at her friend, Hyejoo scoffs with a habitual roll of her eyes.

“Yerim, you can’t even carry your backpack sometimes,” Hyejoo deadpans, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. “You literally make me carry it if it’s too heavy.”

Gasping, her eyebrows furrowed into a twisted expression and her lips pursed, Yerim stops in her tracks to look at the girl continuing to walk in front of her.

“First of all, my textbooks are  _ really heavy _ ,” Yerim whines, her head tilting to the side as she appealed her case. “Second, I bet I can carry you all the way home.”

“You can’t be serious,” Hyejoo snorts, the corners of her lips tilted upwards as she turned to face the girl that had stopped behind her.

“Dead serious.”

Hyejoo regarded her with open interest, her gaze fixated intently on the intense pout Yerim was assaulting her with, something she knew Hyejoo could never resist.

“If you drop me, I’ll never speak to you again.”

“I won’t drop you, you big baby!” Yerim exclaims with excitement, squatting lower to the floor to allow Hyejoo to her back, as if the taller girl needed the extra leverage to climb on. “Get on!”

Hyejoo groans, her legs finding the space between Yerim’s hip and waist and her arms wrapping themselves securely around the older girl’s neck as she grapples to climb onto her back.

“I’m going to regret this,” Hyejoo murmurs, her body being lifted into the air as Yerim’s hands find purchase in the crease between the back of her thighs and calves.

“It’s going to be fun, I promise!” Yerim assures, shifting her palms to get a better grasp on the taller girl leaning onto her back stiffly. “And if I do drop you, don’t worry, I’ll be the one breaking your fall.”

(Yerim thought that she was already falling for the girl whose hands were wrapped tightly around her shoulders and who’s hot breath and body was pressed against her own. She figured  _ actually  _ falling for her wouldn’t constitute too big of a difference.)

Snorting in amusement, Hyejoo only tightens her arms around Yerim in response, “How reassuring.”

Yerim continues their walk home, smiling contently despite the crisp air that filled and expelled out of her lungs leaving a scorching path in its wake and her legs seeming to shake more with every step.

Noticing these changes and not deterred by the soft smile that was plastered on Yerim’s cheeks, Hyejoo’s own lips morph into a smirk as she glances at the girl’s flushed face.

“Hey, Yerim? You good down there,” Hyejoo teases, her tone sing-songy as she swings her feet out in front of her in a childish manner.

“Yeah! Doing...great,” Yerim huffs out, beads of sweat beginning their descent down her forehead despite the close to freezing temperatures outside.

“Sure,” Hyejoo sighed, leaning even more of her weight onto Yerim’s slouching back. “You know, you could just admit that you’re wrong and put me down. Save yourself the pain.”

Scuffing her feet into the slush below her, Yerim cranes her head to glare in dismay at the girl on her back, her mouth dropping in a further display of her offense.

“You’re so mean,” Yerim pouts, facing forward once again as she purposely avoids eye contact with the girl on top of her. “I’m  _ not  _ wrong. If you would stop doubting me for one second, you’d see that I can carry you back home and-”

Yerim’s next words are abruptly cut short as her entire body is sent flying forwards into the air, Hyejoo still attached to her back with a death-like vice around her friend’s flailing upper body.

(How was Yerim supposed to see the fairly  _ large  _ and fairly  _ inconspicuous  _ piece of slate that had frozen over the ground a few steps in front of her. She may not blind but she’s no psychic.)

When Yerim opens her eyes, her vision is obscured by something dark and motionless.

Well, not motionless. It twitches every now and then.

“ _ Fuck,  _ Yerim,” Hyejoo groans from on top of her.

Yerim drops her head backwards into the snow behind her, letting the slush melt into her purple locks, her body too drained to attempt to lift herself from the cold ground.

“...Sorry?”

Silence stretches out between the two of them, the moment frozen with Hyejoo lying static on top of her best friend who lay exhausted on the slowly melting ground below her. Not wanting to make Yerim’s breathing patterns any more exerted and uneven than they already are, Hyejoo rolls off of her friend’s warm chest, her body landing with a soft thump on the frozen floor. It was cold, the snow immediately making its way into the spaces between Hyejoo’s coat and undershirt, between her pants and bare skin, between her socks and feet.

When she glanced over at Yerim, who was staring up into the sky at the direct right of her, Hyejoo’s frigid breath became caught in her chest.

The girl’s eyelashes were stained with melted snow, the sunlight reflecting off of the clear, glistening droplets hanging off the tips of her lashes and fabricating a faint kaleidoscope of vivid colors that seemed to dance across the surface of her flushed cheeks. Her eyes were shut in peaceful content, the corners of her lips twisting like vines. Briefly, her lips reminded Hyejoo of the figurative vines that seemed to have entangled themselves around her steadily beating heart and  _ squeezed _ . Yerim’s palms were open, facing up towards the cloudy sky above them, her chest seeming to rise and fall in tune with Hyejoo’s heartbeat.

Reaching out and taking Yerim’s open hand in her own, Hyejoo followed her friend’s lead and faced towards the sky as well, her fingers finding their way into the spaces between Yerim’s.

“Sorry for dropping you,” Yerim spoke softly, her voice lifting above the light breeze that caressed their skin.

“It’s okay, you kept your promise,” Hyejoo shrugs, eyes flitting between the sky and the girl beside her.

“What promise?”

“You broke my fall,” Hyejoo says fondly, her eyes gleaming as Yerim was allowed the rare sight of the smile that was reserved specially for her.

(The one that made Hyejoo’s eyes crinkle at the edges. The one that exposed her entire front row of teeth and made her nose scrunch up in the slightest. The one that only ever happened when she was with Yerim.)

Yerim laughs in response, her hands and body beginning to feel the effects of sitting in the cold snow for too long.

“Told you so! See, I would never let you down,” Yerim says proudly, sitting up and stretching her hands above her head as she simultaneously shakes her hair loose of any remaining white powder.

“You quite literally let me down like, five minutes ago,” Hyejoo laughs, standing up in response to her friend’s movements, using her shaking hands to brush off the snow that had fallen into the crevices of her windbreaker jacket.

“Stop being dramatic, you’re fine!” Yerim smiles brightly, Hyejoo’s own features brightening substantially at the sight of it. Her eyes glint in mischief as she places her gloveless hands on Hyejoo’s shoulders before winking at her and, with a firm shove, sends her flying back into the cold snow.

“What- Yerim!”

The older girl was already sprinting down the street, her purple hair silhouetted by the golden sunlight peeking through the clouds and shining a spotlight on the girl she  _ was in love with _ spent every waking hour with.

Her airy voice sounded faintly in the distance, “Meet you back at the house, babe!”

(At this point, Hyejoo’s lost count of how many times Yerim has stolen her breath, words, and thoughts. It’s innumerable.)

Alone, Hyejoo slowly got back onto her feet before beginning her slow walk back to her house.

“Babe?”

By the time Hyejoo arrives at her doorstep, Yerim is already inside, most likely conversing with one of her parents while having food made for her by the other. Walking inside, she was not surprised to find her predictions to be true.

“Took you long enough!” Yerim teases from her place on the couch, Hyejoo’s mother coming up from behind her with a few blankets in her hands along with a plate of pancakes drowned in syrup (just how Yerim liked it), her father sitting in his chair in front of the television with his body pivoted towards Yerim in open conversation.

“I can’t believe you,” Hyejoo huffs, stalking past her mother’s outstretched hands and throwing herself into Yerim’s open arms with a loud sigh. “You’re the  _ worst. _ ”

Giggling, Yerim just kisses the crown of her head before responding, “I know, but you love me anyway!”

“Says who?” Hyejoo grumbles, her voice muffled from where her lips were pressed into Yerim’s freshly washed shirt.

(Of course her parents had given Yerim fresh clothes when she had walked through the door sopping wet. She’s practically their second daughter.)

Running her hands up and down Hyejoo’s back in a soothing repetitive motion, Yerim hums out a content sigh as she burrows further into the couch’s cushioned structure.

“Me, you, you parents, everyone else who knows us,” Yerim responds, her tone lathered with false ponderance as she scratches her chin for added emphasis. “It’s pretty obvious.”

Hyejoo figures it would be fruitless to argue with the girl below her for a few reasons.

First, she has learned throughout their years of friendship that arguing with Yerim isn’t something that amounts to anything good— it usually ends with one of them crying or Yerim looking at her with her wide, large, sad eyes in disappointment.

(Hyejoo  _ hates  _ disappointing Yerim.)

Second, in this case Yerim really isn’t wrong. Hyejoo would be a fool to argue that she doesn’t look at her best friend like she is the sole reason the stars twinkle in the sky at night, like Yerim is the purest form of goodness and euphoria in existence.

(And, in Hyejoo’s honest opinion, Yerim is just that.)

So, instead of engaging in a futile argument that she knew she wouldn’t win, Hyejoo pulls herself off of Yerim’s soft and warm body, grabbing the other girl’s hand that had been leaving a burning trail of goosebumps up and down her spine for the past few minutes. Releasing the breath that had been stuck in her chest for the past five minutes, Hyejoo drags Yerim up the stairs leading to her bedroom before throwing her friend onto her bed and softly shutting the door behind her.

When she turns around, Yerim is already burrowed under the layers of thick blankets that had been thrown on her bed following the onslaught of cold weather that had breathed winter into their town. A fond smile etches onto her cheeks as she looks at the loose layers of purple-hair strewn out across the darker contrast of her comforter.

“I’m cold,” Yerim whines, her hands coming up to pull the fabric more securely around her.

Scoffing, Hyejoo climbs into bed beside her friend, “You have like 4 blankets on, Yerim. How are you cold?”

It’s immediate, the way that Yerim’s shivering body shifts to cling to Hyejoo’s. With her arms wrapping themselves around Hyejoo’s torso and her head coming to lay dutifully in the juncture between her friend’s shoulder and neck, Yerim smiles contently and presses a feather-like kiss into the skin beneath her.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Yerim giggles into Hyejoo’s ear in a half-hushed whisper. “I wasn’t really cold, I just wanted to get you in bed with me.”

Hyejoo’s cheeks flare up at her words, her pale skin becoming dusted with a light pink as she turns her head away from Yerim to hide her reaction. At the new exposure of skin, Yerim’s lips lift up slightly as she presses another light kiss into the smooth slope of Hyejoo’s neck.

(She had been doing this since they were little— the kisses. Yerim always found comfort in physical contact— hugs from her mom, holding hands with her dad, kisses from Hyejoo. To her, the reassurance and warmth she was swaddled in at the thought of being loved was synonymous with displays of affection like those.)

Hyejoo rolls her eyes sarcastically as she possessively pulls the smaller girl closer into her side, her fingers dancing up and down the cotton shirt that covered Yerim’s ribs, her touches scarce yet colored with affection. 

A thought came to her briefly, filtering in and out of her brain in a fleeting manner. As Hyejoo looks down at the smaller girl snuggled comfortably into her, all she could think of was how her bed never feels more like home than when Yerim is in it. The next thought stays for a little longer than the last, her arms subconsciously tightening around Yerim’s languid form as it occupies her mind. Undoubtedly, Hyejoo concludes that wherever Yerim was would feel like home to her.

Yerim’s eyes flutter close with her next words, “You know I love you, right?”

Hyejoo’s eyes widen in contrast, her heart heavy and laden with an almost unbearable amount of fondness at the soft way Yerim spoke, the smaller girl’s hot breathe breathing unevenly into her neck.

“Yeah, I know.”

Yerim frowns at the response, begrudgingly dragging her body upwards and away from its place in Hyejoo’s arms so she could more directly look the taller girl in the eyes as she spoke.

(And, if Yerim’s heart stalls in her chest at the sight of Hyejoo looking up at her with love shining clearly in her eyes and lips parted half-way, who could blame her.)

“No,” Yerim says, frustration lining the edges of her voice as she spoke. “No, no. Like, I’m _in_ _love_ with you.”

Rolling her eyes at her friend’s antics, Hyejoo brings her hands up to Yerim’s face as she tucks a stray strand of purple hair behind the girl’s right ear. Resting her palm on the cheek of the girl towering above her, Hyejoo runs her thumb along the edge of the other girl’s jaw. Yerim’s breath catches in her chest at the sensation, her eyes drooping shut and her elbows bending slightly as she struggles to keep herself upright.

“Yeah, I  _ know _ . I’m in love with you too, dumbass,” Hyejoo speaks quietly, her expression serene and peaceful as she let her hand drop from Yerim’s cheek back to its usual place at her side.

Eyes reflecting the briefest hints of hope, Yerim’s mouth falls open as Hyejoo’s hand falls from her cheek.

“No!” She starts again. “Like, I’m really  _ really  _ in love with you. Like, I don’t want to just kiss your neck and forehead or whatever. I...I want to kiss other places too.”

Blurted out in one breath, Yerim watches the girl below her in anticipation, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the unfazed and peaceful expression gracing Hyejoo’s features. Silence loads the space between them, Yerim’s cheeks aflame while Hyejoo’s lips continue to sit in an easy smile.

“Can you just say something, I don’t-”

In all honesty, the very last thing Yerim expects is to be interrupted by a soft pair of lips pressing into her own.

And, in all honesty, fireworks wouldn’t be the way she would describe it. It wasn’t earth-shattering or revolutionary, not picturesque or what she was taught to expect by the romcoms she had grown up with. It was messy, their noses bumping together while they tried to find the right angle, their teeth clacking as their lips were pulled into simultaneous grins. It was messy and inexperienced and more clumsy than perfect, but it was still everything she had expected— everything she had hoped for. The kiss was synonymous with Hyejoo herself.

_ (Familiar, warm, soft, easy.) _

When she pulls away, Yerim is left breathless, her eyes glistening with awe and shock and something new brewing in the depths of her amber brown irises.

(The new, she figures, is them.)

“I’m  _ in love  _ with you too,” Hyejoo shrugs to fill the noiseless atmosphere, the only sound being their heavy breathing and beating hearts.

“Yeah,” Yerim breathes out, fingers ghosting across her blushing cheeks and rose-kissed lips. “I guess so.”

Yerim’s body falls back into place after that, her warmth and affection seeping back into Hyejoo’s side with a newborn intimacy. Staring at the ceiling above her, she watches as the hues of the day’s sunset bounce off the cold white walls surrounding them, the warmth of the colors softening the room.

(It’s funny, some things never change. Her favorite moments with Hyejoo  _ always  _ seem to happen during sunsets.)

When the silence weighing comfortably between them settles into place, that’s when she speaks.

“You’re my best friend, Hyejoo.”

“You’re mine too.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> 7k words of pure hyerim fluff. yes i copied the storyline straight from the song lyrics but it's cute and soft so whatever. i really hope u guys liked it even tho it's pretty dialogue heavy. feel free to leave comments and stuff so I can talk to u about choerry and olivia and loona, thank u so much for reading!
> 
> hopefully i'll be back soon w something else but until then make sure to stream so what on feb. 5th :]


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